


Television

by OzQueen



Series: babysitters100 [58]
Category: Baby-Sitters Club - Ann M. Martin
Genre: Canon Compliant, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 02:54:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3794005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OzQueen/pseuds/OzQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the fire, nobody wants to be alone with their thoughts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Television

**Author's Note:**

> Another little hurt/comfort ficlet. Stands alone. This is turning out to be a fun little challenge, and I'm burning through prompts, which is even better haha.
> 
> *AO3 seems to count hyphenated words as one, while Scrivener apparently counts them as two. When I wrote this I wrote it to Scrivener's wordcount, but on AO3 it looks like I'm two words short. :(

Richard woke with his heart racing. He breathed out slowly, letting his eyes adjust to the dark so the unfamiliar shadows of the bedroom started to settle into his memory again. Rain tapped at the window and the wind blew through the leaves of the trees in the yard, but inside the Thomas-Brewer mansion everything was still.

Richard slid out from underneath Sharon’s arm and dry-washed his face with his hands. He still felt shaky and unsettled; it was hard to get a full night’s sleep lately. The fire had caused a seed of fear to take root. He couldn't stop thinking about what might have happened if he had simply slept on, the house filling with suffocating smoke, his wife and daughter lost…

He swallowed and rubbed his eyes again. He decided to make himself a warm drink to try settle his nerves.

He pushed his feet into his slippers - the soles still stiff and new - and started to make his way downstairs. He hadn't stopped to put his glasses on, and a flicker caught his eye, something flaring and dying at the gap under the door of Kristy’s bedroom. His heart jumped. It wasn't until he had reached the room properly he realized it was light from the television, not from anything to be feared.

The door was ajar. Through the narrow gap he could see the bed, lit with blue light from the screen. Kristy was sitting up against her pillows, her cheek propped against the top of Mary Anne’s head. 

Even without his glasses, Richard could see the light shining off the wet trails of tears on his daughter’s face as she lay snuggled into Kristy, a tissue clutched loosely in her hand. She was asleep, or near enough to it. Kristy’s fingers trailed gently through her dark hair, from her temple down over her ear to the back of her neck, over and over again.

Richard watched quietly. He wondered what they had talked about - what fears or heartaches had caused Mary Anne’s tears, and what Kristy had said to comfort her. He hadn't known Mary Anne wasn't sleeping in her own bed, but it made sense to him. He didn't want to be alone with his thoughts either.

He noted the way she and Kristy fit together so easily. He and Mary Anne had never had the sort of relationship where they could readily discuss their worries together, and sometimes he regretted it. He decided to seek his daughter out tomorrow and spend time with her, even if nothing was said. Quiet company was usually enough to calm them both.

He knew he should leave before he was seen, but he lingered for a moment, taking in the scene so he could remind himself of it if he had trouble sleeping later. 

His fear had settled though, and he felt tired again. He went back to bed, knowing he had fewer reasons to worry when his daughter was in such good hands.


End file.
